James Potter: The Sole Survivor
by anonymous1222
Summary: Alt-Fic: Instead of leaving his wand behind as he does in the books, James takes his wand to fend off the Dark Lord while his wife and son try to escape. However, unable to keep the Dark Lord at bay for long, Voldemort manages to take the lives of Lily and Harry. Believing that he is now invincible, Voldemort falls prey to James' killing curse, leaving James the sole survivor.
1. Chapter 1

Premise: We are told that when James went to face Voldemort on the night he died he had left his wand behind. But what if he had taken it instead?

Chapter 1: Survivor

Something felt wrong. Very wrong. None of the magical enchantments that surrounded the house in Godric's Hollow had been triggered, yet James Potter could not shake away the nasty chill that ran down his spine. Slowly he moved to the window of his baby boy's room and peaked beyond the curtain, letting out a terrified gasp as he backed away, "Lily," he said in a quiet, but stern voice, "it's him."

"It can't be," Lily said as she stood up and pulled the young Harry tight to her chest. A wave of fear ran through her like cold wind. She and James had defied the legions of the Dark Lord so many times, but for Voldemort himself to appear on their doorstep was something else entirely, "Peter wouldn't…"

"No one is saying anything about…" he cut her off from completing her thoughts of betrayal, though he stopped himself at the sound of the front door swinging open a floor below. With no time to waste, James turned to Lily and put his hands on her shoulders, "Lily, remove the enchantments and disapparate with Harry. Find some place safe."

"But he'll kill you," she protested as a tears started rolling down her cheeks, knowing of the sacrifice he intended to make.

James cupped his wife's face in his hands and wiped away her tears with his thumbs, "Maybe, but we can't risk Harry's life," he knew the risks involved with him intercepting the greatest known Dark Wizard of all time, and it pained him to think that this may be the last time that he was ever going to see his son and his beautiful wife. But the possibility of his loved ones because of his inaction was far a more terrifying prospect. He kissed her on the lips, unsure if the wetness was from his wife's tears or his own before reluctantly letting go. "Lily, take Harry and go!" he stepped back, "Go! Run! I'll hold him off!" He shouted, making Lily back away slightly from the shock at his aggressiveness.

With no time to waste, James picked up his wand from where he had left it and charged out of the bedroom when he saw the Dark Lord himself standing at the bottom of the stairs, his features obscured by a rain-soaked black cloak. Smart enough to know not to let Voldemort get into his head by use of cunning words, James threw a volley of powerful stunning spells at the wizard.

But the dark wizard shielded himself from each and every one with a laugh, "James, James, James," the man said in a soft, cold voice, "I thought you of all people would know better," Voldemort then raised his wand and fired a killing curse at James.

Knowing it could not be blocked with any sort of shield spell, James wordlessly conjured a silver shield and put it between him and the flash of green light. While it had protected him from the effects of the curse, the force behind the spell was enough to shatter the shield and blast James against the wall, temporarily incapacitating him.

With an unseen grin on his face, the Dark Lord slowly walked up the stairs and steadied his wand towards James, intent on performing the killing blow, when he heard a woman's voice casting spells to disenchant the house. "No," he said with a hint of worry behind his words and he started running up the stairs. Getting a hold of the Potters in their own home took an incredible amount of work, and if the boy managed to make it to safety he knew his chances of locating him again were slim.

He burst through the door and, with no time to waste, cast another killing curse at the first thing he saw. Without a sound the young Lily Potter crumpled to the floor and her wand fell out of her hand and rolled away. The Dark Lord looked frantically around the room for the boy, afraid that his mother had already found a means by which to help him escape, when he heard a low hiccup from the crib. Growing impatient and afraid that members of the Resistance would soon show up, he grabbed the blanket from the crib and pulled it away, revealing a baby hidden beneath with a terrified expression on his face, "Oh dear Harry," the Dark Lord said in a gleefully sadistic tone, "to think that the prophecy says that you, a mere infant, could somehow be the chosen one," he smiled and held his wand to the boy's head, "But it looks like there is no one here to protect you," he took a short moment to relish in the moment before taking a deep breath to utter the words that would, in his mind, finally make him unstoppable, "Avada Kedavra!"

Having managed to pull himself together, James pushed himself off the ground and limped to Harry's bedroom in time to see the flash of green light that would take his son's life. Seeing his wife and son dead at the hands of this monster brought out something terrible in James. Blinded by fury, he raised his wand and aimed it at the cloaked figure, "Avada Kedavra!"

Believing that he had just killed the only person who could ever hope to defeat him, Voldemort had looked upon James as if the man's curse would somehow backfire. But when the spell hit him, Voldemort screamed in agony as something entirely unexpected happened. Because of his horcruxes, which were still a secret even to his most loyal of followers, the killing curse did not perform as it normally did. Instead, Voldemort and James watched as the Dark Lord's body started disintegrating.

James could not explain what it was he saw that night. It was unlike anything he had ever seen, and as Voldemort's body turned to nothingness, he swore that he saw something, something not quite human escape. But the image was quickly shoved out of mind as he crawled to the lifeless body of his wife. Feeling pain unlike anything he'd ever experienced before, James reared back his head and let loose a terrible scream of agony that would have dropped even a Banshee to its knees.

He was found several hours later, alive but in critical condition, in the crumbled remains of his house, holding the dead Harry Potter in arms.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Confirmation

Alastor Moody and Prime Minister Millicent Bagnold waited patiently by James' hospital bed in St. Mungo's while Ollivander inspected the wand left behind in Godric's Hollow. All throughout the country magical folks were celebrating the news of Voldemort's death, with many disregarding the laws that governed keeping magic a secret from muggles, due in no small part to the Prime Minister's insistence that they had every right to celebrate the occasion. But Moody, unable to accept such news blindly after years of fighting dark wizards, needed some extra convincing.

He and a small team from the Order of the Phoenix searched the remains of the Potter's house once all of the bodies had been moved until they finally found what was allegedly the Dark Lord's wand, "Such an angry wand," old man Ollivander said as he inspected the instrument, "So much hatred, so much pain. I remember selling this wand to He-who-must-not-be-named so many years ago…it is most surely his." He held the wand for James to take, "As his vanquisher, I think it only right that you take this."

James narrowed his eyes at the wand and swatted it away, causing it to clatter against the wall in a shower of red and green sparks, "Don't ever show me that wand again," James snarled. In one night he lost the two most important things in his life by the point of that accursed wand, and he wanted nothing more to do with it.

Moody hobbled over and, with some difficulty, stooped down to pick up the wand before pocketing it, "Then I suppose you won't mind," he patted his coat where the wand resided, "Let's call it a souvenir." A smile escaped his gnarled lips, somehow making the old auror's features more terrifying than normal.

"Well," Millicent said as she clapped her hands together, "I think the important thing here is that we have confirmed that He-who-must-not-be-named truly is gone." Ollivander let out a smile, but Moody let out a disbelieving grunt. James wrote it off as paranoia, or possibly even that the auror just could not yet picture a world that did not live with the fear of Voldemort.

"Any word on Sirius?" James asked the three. His good friend had been the one to pick him up from the crumpled ruins of his house, but since James woke up the man had not shown up.

"Still on the hunt for Pettigrew," Moody said in a harsh tone and a heavy silence fell on the room.

Despite James' prior insistence, he had come to accept that the only way for Lord Voldemort to find them was for the Secret Keeper to have given up their location. But to think that Peter Pettigrew….Wormtail, one of his best friends would betray him…After everything he'd suffered it only made him feel numb.

Taking the silence as a sign that it was time to let James have some peace and quiet, Millicent spoke up, "Okay, I think we have all the information we need, wouldn't you say, Alastor?" she raised her eyebrows and lowered her head slightly at the auror, conveying the message that it was more command than question. With a terse nod, the auror agreed and the three visitors left James alone in the room.

James closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. Having sustained relatively little physical harm aside from a bump on the back of his head from when he blocked the killing curse, James wanted to leave the hospital, but the Healers would have no such thing. For one they didn't want him wandering around with all the partying, and what's more they didn't want people crowding him, showering him with thanks and congratulations before he was well enough to handle the stress of such a bombardment.

"It is no easy thing, losing a loved one," James' eyes flew open at the familiar soothing voice and saw Dumbledore sitting on the corner of his bed, the usual twinkle in his eye completely absent. The wizard reached into his robes and pulled out a box of sweets, "Lemon drop?" he held a piece out, which James gladly accepted, putting a small smile on the old man's face.

"It's over, Albus," James said before plopping the sweet into his mouth, "It's really over, isn't it?" When he first joined the Order he was convinced that, when this day came, he would be ecstatic. But while he always understood that death was just around the corner for him, he never for one moment considered that Lily and Harry would not be there beside him.

"It would appear so," Dumbledore said, though there was doubt in his voice.

James, having known the man for a good portion of his life, knew that something was on Dumbledore''s mind, "You don't think so, do you?" Was it the remaining death eaters? Would they arrive en masse at St. Mungo's to kill James as revenge? Was the Order still in danger? But what Dumbledore had to say was beyond anything that James could ever have imagined.

"No. I don't think it is over," Dumbledore stood up and walked over to the window where he looked down at a crowd of men and women dressed in a various assortment of robes, celebrating like there was no tomorrow. Though, given how litter there had been to be cheerful about over the past few years, one could understand why everyone would want to let lose. "All around the country, if not the world, wizards are rejoicing over the defeat of Lord Voldemort. But I do not think he is truly gone."

James could not help but let out a laugh, "You have got to be kidding me, Albus," James said, but when the old man turned to him with a stern look in his eye, James could tell that he wasn't fooling around, "No, you can't be serious. I hit him with a killing curse. There's no surviving that, and there's no coming back from the dead."

Dumbledore closed his eyes and took a breath before walking away from the window, "Yes, that is true. Bringing the dead back to life is impossible, and no one has ever survived the killing curse before. But tell me, James. When Voldemore supposedly died, did you notice anything strange?"

James' thoughts flashed images of the strange being he saw after Voldemort's body disintegrated. He had blamed it on the stress of the situation, but if Dumbledore was right…. "I did. It was almost like a specter."

"No, not a specter," Dumbledore corrected the man, "Voldemort was far too powerful and far too careful to be taken down so easily. I fear that somehow, Voldemort has found a way to survive this ordeal."

The mere mention of the possibility was enough to make James furious, "Take it back," he shouted as he pushed himself out of the bed and approached the old man, "Tell me this is your idea of some sick joke, or I swear," having left his wand on the bedside table, James was ready to throw a punch at the old man, but Dumbledore placed a hand on his shoulder, which sent a calming sensation through his body.

"Calm down, James," Dumbledore said softly as he led James back to the bed, "It is just something that I feel needs investigation." He removed his hand from James' shoulder, "But it can wait for another time. For now, you need your rest."

"Albus," James said, wanting to ask his old headmaster something before he disappeared, as he was prone to do, "Do you think making Peter Secret Keeper was a mistake?"

Dumbledore let out a soft sigh and looked James in the eye as a father would to a disappointed son, "James, we cannot predict the future. In hindsight it is so easy to say that putting the responsibility on Peter Pettigrew was a mistake, but your reasoning was solid. No one could have predicted that such a close friend would have done what he did."

"Sirius is out looking for him now…if he catches Peter, he'll kill him, won't he?" Dumbledore gave a silent nod, knowing full well what Sirius' intentions were, "I wish that Sirius would think this through. Doing this….is it the right thing to do?" Despite all the anger he felt toward Peter, despite everything he wanted to do to make him pay, James was unsure if he could bring himself to harm such an old friend in that way. On the one hand he felt guilty about having such a desire for revenge, but on the other he felt like it was the right thing to do given what happened to Harry and Lily as a result.

"It is not my place to say, James," Dumbledore broke eye contact, "For some an act of vengeance is followed by feelings of closure. But if one is not careful, revenge can take over your life, to the point where you will feel nothing but a vast emptiness when it is finally fulfilled. And when that happens, you have to be careful that you are the same person you were when you first set out."

Given the tone and Dumbledore's unwillingness to look him in the eye, James couldn't help but feel that he was speaking from experience. But he didn't press further. So much had happened in the past 24 hours, and now James wanted nothing more than some sleep, quietly hoping that when he woke up he would be in his bed at home, snuggled up nicely against his wife.

But such a thing was not to be. The trials of James Potter had only just begun.


End file.
